Push, Part Two
So, despite the whole "push" scenario, vising the new baby Sunday was just fine. I could feel genuinely happy for my friend. Bitterness was not invited to the party, and by the grace of God, she did not show up.
But there they were, as I walked out to my car - sharp tears stinging my eyes.
"You'll never be here."
"You'll never be pregnant."
"You're probably done with babies."
"You have no control of your family planning."
And really, the infertility issues for me stem primarily from the control issues. Would I like to carry a baby safe inside me for nine months? Eh, sure. Breastfeeding? Yeah, I wouldn't have minded giving it a go. But adopting was so awesome. And so physically pain free.
What I am really mourning is the lack of control. The missing conversation that goes like this,
"Hey, do you want to have another baby?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Cool, let's pull the goalie."
Instead our conversation goes like this,
"Hey, I want to have another baby."
Long pause.
"But how?"
Then a long conversation about options, all of which seem too expensive or unattainable.
So really, it's about the lack of control.
I called another friend on the way home from the Baby Taj Mahal, "I thought I dealt with this already," I said. "Why am I here again?"
And she, ever so gently, reminded me of Paul.
A lump swells in my throat as I recount the conversation.
Our infertility is not going away, but it is something that God has used in my life to draw me closer to Him. It is the proverbial thorn in my side. It is a process of sanctification. It has caused me to rely fully on Him in this area of our lives (and honestly in so many other areas, too). And for that reliance, I am grateful.
Because I promise you, the brief moments of disappointment I felt Sunday as I left the Baby Taj Mahal were nothing in comparison to where I was three or four years ago. Nothing.
I am stronger now.
I know that God's plan for my life, for my family, is so much bigger than what I could plan. (Jeremiah 29:11)
I know what hope fulfilled feels like. (Proverbs 13:12)
I know that with God, nothing is impossible. (Luke 1:37)
And because ultimately, what I want in my life is relationship and closeness with Jesus. If this is the sacrifice (fertility) that gets me there, I accept it. What I really want is more of Him.
And I think that was the whole point of my mini-meltdown. I needed to be reminded of these truths.
But there they were, as I walked out to my car - sharp tears stinging my eyes.
"You'll never be here."
"You'll never be pregnant."
"You're probably done with babies."
"You have no control of your family planning."
And really, the infertility issues for me stem primarily from the control issues. Would I like to carry a baby safe inside me for nine months? Eh, sure. Breastfeeding? Yeah, I wouldn't have minded giving it a go. But adopting was so awesome. And so physically pain free.
What I am really mourning is the lack of control. The missing conversation that goes like this,
"Hey, do you want to have another baby?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Cool, let's pull the goalie."
Instead our conversation goes like this,
"Hey, I want to have another baby."
Long pause.
"But how?"
Then a long conversation about options, all of which seem too expensive or unattainable.
So really, it's about the lack of control.
I called another friend on the way home from the Baby Taj Mahal, "I thought I dealt with this already," I said. "Why am I here again?"
And she, ever so gently, reminded me of Paul.
A lump swells in my throat as I recount the conversation.
Our infertility is not going away, but it is something that God has used in my life to draw me closer to Him. It is the proverbial thorn in my side. It is a process of sanctification. It has caused me to rely fully on Him in this area of our lives (and honestly in so many other areas, too). And for that reliance, I am grateful.
Because I promise you, the brief moments of disappointment I felt Sunday as I left the Baby Taj Mahal were nothing in comparison to where I was three or four years ago. Nothing.
I am stronger now.
I know that God's plan for my life, for my family, is so much bigger than what I could plan. (Jeremiah 29:11)
I know what hope fulfilled feels like. (Proverbs 13:12)
I know that with God, nothing is impossible. (Luke 1:37)
And because ultimately, what I want in my life is relationship and closeness with Jesus. If this is the sacrifice (fertility) that gets me there, I accept it. What I really want is more of Him.
And I think that was the whole point of my mini-meltdown. I needed to be reminded of these truths.
I thought about these things on Sunday and wondered how it might have felt for you to walk those halls. My heart goes out to you as these emotions have come back and the questions return. I have not had to walk the same painful (and I can see at times lonely) road God's given you; mine's been "You CAN have another baby, but you're threatening your life to do it and might have to welcome your babies early and by surgery." We've sealed our babyhood journey with only 2, have down days like today when I panic about a headache and swelling and wonder if I'll be delivering another preemie soon, and realize I'll never "push" a baby into this world like I'd always dreamed of. I pray that the Lord would graciously move His heart and your heart to be aligned with the same hopes and future just as I ask Him to help me to align myself with that, too, when things can't go as planned. You are an awesome friend to walk those halls and show love to a sweet friend. And that Christlikeness is a treasure among the tears. Thanks for openly sharing your thoughts here so we can walk with you!
ReplyDeleteYou make my heart happy. What a testimony you live out, my friend.
ReplyDeleteI love, love, love you friend.
ReplyDelete